Sipho was nursing a humungous hangover when Joy, his personal secretary, showed up at his house looking like she was heavily drugged. It was mid-morning on a Saturday and her big eyes looked glazed and her lips were dry, as though she hadn’t eaten in days. It was only then that he noticed how much weight she had lost. A chill ran through his body as she took a seat next to him on his veranda. Then she dropped a bombshell that left him feeling dazed.

‘I am pregnant with your child,’ she sighed heavily. She wasn’t happy. She was much younger than Sipho and had been planning to study. She didn’t want to remain a secretary for the rest of her life. She felt stupid for falling for the charms of her boss.

Sipho’s ears rang. In the back of his mind he always knew this day would come; he was reckless when it came to women. His sharp brain seemed to shrink and turn upside down
when his lower regions inflated. To those, like Nonceba, who insisted on a condom he obliged. But he always seemed to assume that it was the responsibility of the woman to deal with prevention measures for pregnancies and, God forbid, diseases.

The stricken Joy made Sipho feel guilty. He knew that he was in the wrong. He was older, and she was in a subordinate position. He held her close. ‘Please don’t cry baby, I am here. I am not going anywhere. Whatever you decide to do, I am here for you.’

Her body stiffened. ‘What do you mean, whatever I decide to do?’ She extracted herself from his arms to look him in the eyes with guarded fury.
Sipho felt helpless. ‘I mean, if you want to keep the baby or not,’ he said hesitantly, pointing to her stomach that seemed rather flat now.

‘Oh no, I was not alone in this. You were there grunting sweet nothings when you planted your dirty little tadpoles. Now you want me to make this decision alone!’ She was angry at herself because she knew that she wasn’t the only woman in his life.

But by the time she found out about the others it was too late. She was hooked, in love beyond logic, and she couldn’t bring herself to dump him. She loved him and hated him at the same time. ‘I am telling you now that I am not getting rid of this baby, and I expect you to come home to my parents to explain yourself.’ The submissive Joy was gone. Sipho stood there, shocked by this transformation. His head was throbbing from the previous day’s whisky. He simply nodded, wanting to get rid of her so that he could get some sleep.

After a month of tension and dirty looks from Joy, who spent considerable time heaving in the toilet, things turned south. She had gone for routine tests and her last visit to the clinic brought dark news. Not only was she pregnant, she was also HIV-positive. When she heard this, she fainted in the counsellor’s office. The counsellor used the telephone number Joy wrote on the form to call Sipho. ‘Sir, we need you to please come to our rooms as soon as possible. Your girlfriend is having some complications.’

Sipho’s heart flipped, skipping beats as he felt fear spread throughout his body. Getting a call from this kind of clinic turns everyone’s knees into jelly. The ride to Addington Hospital seemed to be on automatic pilot. His legs became heavy, each step laboured, like a slow motion scene in an action movie.
He never smoked, but at that moment he craved a long

drag of a cigarette. He stood in front of the counsellor’s door but didn’t knock. He had an overwhelming urge to turn around and run as fast as he could.

But the door opened before he could do that. The counsellor had a kind face. She looked at him across the doorway, and smiled a sad little smile, recognising his fear. She was familiar with it by now. She was trained to calm people down and shift their minds from doom to questions of how they could manage the disease in their bloodstream.

Joy was sleeping peacefully on the office floor with her shoes off. By now a small bump was showing on her tummy, but her frame remained slender. ‘Joy came in for a test. I had to call you because I see that you are the father of the baby she is carrying. She will need your help to get home. She’s resting now. Let’s give her a little time and then you can take her home.’

‘What tests? What were the results? Why did she faint?’ Sipho asked all these questions without giving the counsellor space to explain.

‘Well, it is up to Joy to explain to you when she wakes.’

As if on cue, Joy woke up with a start, looking confused. When her eyes registered Sipho, she went for him, punching him in the face and screaming at him. ‘You are poison, you have killed me. I am dying of a disease I never thought would reach me.’ She was spitting venom like a disturbed cobra. ‘I thought you were a clean, decent man, but you were whoring all over town. Look at us now. Don’t even deny it, I know it was you. I was fine before you came along.’

Then she collapsed on a chair and cried some more. Her weave was dishevelled. She looked like a demented woman. The counsellor handed her a brown paper bag to breathe into to calm herself.

Sipho sat there, his face throbbing from her punches. Surrender, the voice in his head kept repeating. He had to surrender himself to the news. He calmly asked the counsellor if he could take a test of his own. He knew it was a formality because every part of his being knew he had to have it. He didn’t have enough fingers and toes to count the women he had been with. Finally, he took exhausted Joy home with him.

After all her ranting, she simply shut down, and fell into a fitful sleep.

For Sipho, it was the longest night of his life as he waited till the next day for the results. Images of his numerous women flashed through his mind, but it was the thought of Zola that brought a lump in his throat.

By morning, his pillow was soaked with the salty tears of his regrets.

During the counselling, he could hear the words coming from the kind looking nurse in front of him, but he felt as if he was underwater. Although he expected the result to be positive, confirmation made him sob for the lives he had managed to ruin.